The spaces in between

So, the 22nd came and went, and 6 postcards failed to materialise. There was only one that I wasn’t really expecting to get back, and they’re ok. I didn’t want to learn how to surf anyway (water is cold, and also wet! Two things I don’t like very much). Another is excused due to the lateness of her inclusion and the fact she had a baby almost immediately. But still.

The whole experiment inadvertently took on an emotional life of its own as I took the rollercoaster ride of checking what the postman had brought each day. For the first few days, nothing. Then one. Then a dribble. Then a swarm. First the postcards from those I knew I could rely on, and the wide-eyed wonder of the challenges they proposed. The warmth in realising how well they knew me. Then those on the outer, who I thought might palm the entire thing off as some outlandish flight of fancy, but humoured me anyway. Delight in their deliberate thoughtfulness. Then the surprises, the people to whom I’d cast a wide net but wasn’t sure they would rise to the occasion; the recognition of handwriting from people long lost and a subsequent stirring of affection.

I guess I’d sort of expected not to get all 29 postcards back, but what surprised me in the end is which ones didn’t come home. Every flourish of childish excitement at the unexpected ones, I now realise is countered with a short sharp pang at those who didn’t deem the project important enough. Who didn’t deem me important enough.

Now the deadline has passed, I will admit that I secretly hoped somebody would ask me to get a tattoo, but oh well. I also hoped I would be given the justification to learn how to drive and learn some skills in the kitchen, so it evens out. Perhaps fortunately, the ever-prepared Jacob Sewell considerately provided me with four challenges instead of one. I’ve really only taken up 3 of them, but that at least takes my tally to 26 challenges.

That leaves me three challenges. For bonus points, I am filling the gaps.
1. Give blood.
2. Learn conversational Japanese.
3. Find out more about my parents.

Giving blood is something I’ve always thought I should do, since high school, but never got up the gall to go through with it. The Japanese sounds like a big one, but I really just want to learn enough to help me figure out where the train station is and how to order some sake when we visit there next July. It’s a flying visit, 4 nights in Tokyo, but I dare say that’s plenty of time to get tremendously lost on the way to the train station and accidentally order octopus brains. Hence, a basic understanding of Japanese would be nice. The parental thing is something I literally just came up with. My Mum and Dad got married late in proceedings and are quite inhibited about their lives before me and before each other. It’s intriguing. I have hints about who they were, but often I feel like I don’t really know them. They’re not big talkers.

I’ve also realised there are other goals I have quietly set for myself – the vegetarian Thursday thing; trying to read all of the books on our bookshelf before going to the store and drooling over more of them; drinking more water instead of soft drinks or cordial; the “no non-essential spending” weeks. I’d be doing these things anyway, so don’t worry, I’m not trying to cheat, but it is just curious the way we make these shifts without giving them too much thought.